


Great Game

by LovelyLittleGrim



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Bro talk, Flirting, Hand Job, Kissing, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Smut, excessive usage of Sports terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/pseuds/LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: Buck’s watching him, waiting for some type of response. “Scared, Diaz?”“I don’t have any reason to be scared, Buckley.” He meets Buck’s eyes, lips quirked and murmurs, “I always come out on top.”AKA, the fic in which Eddie and Buck flirt using very bad sports terms.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 48
Kudos: 541





	Great Game

**Author's Note:**

> I love Christopher but we're just going to pretend he was somewhere else during the tense kitchen scene, okay?

Confused arousal burns through Eddie, starting in the highs of his cheeks and traveling down into the pit of his stomach, where it settles entirely too hot and heavy. He sips at his beer, lips twitching up in an almost smile at Buck. He wonders if the guy realizes just how flirtatious he sounds right now or if Buck is blissfully unaware as he holds onto the clasp of his belt and cocks his head at Eddie in a challenge. 

Buck looks down at him, tongue swiping out over his lips and smiles. It’s a small thing, almost a smirk, cocky and smug. “You wanna try for the title?” 

Eddie pauses, beer still raised to his lips. 

_Flirting_ , he thinks and isn’t as surprised as he feels he should be. 

Buck is flirting with him, in a weird, sports references, bro-type of way. He almost wants to laugh, but his heart is beating just a little too hard and he’s sure the breathy sound of it would give him away.

There are two ways Eddie can play this right now. He can joke with Buck, agree to an actual game like they’ve been playing up until now—and definitely kick his ass at it. Or he can flirt back. It’s been a while since he’s done it, but the idea seems almost easy when he thinks about Buck being the recipient. 

Buck’s watching him, waiting for some type of response. “Scared, Diaz?” 

“I don’t have any reason to be scared, Buckley.” He meets Buck’s eyes, lips quirked and murmurs, “I always come out on top.” 

Buck goes still, hand falling away from his belt clasp. He looks almost surprised, as though he’d never contemplated Eddie actually flirting back. His brows furrow ever so slightly, “you actually stepping up to the plate?” 

Licking his lips, Eddie sets his nearly empty beer down on the counter behind him and braces his hands on the edges, body leaning towards Buck. He smiles, “Why not? I already know I’m going to hit a home run.”

“Oh, You think it’s gonna be that easy?” Buck asks, stepping closer. Eddie can smell the cologne he loves to wear and the beer on his breath. 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs pushing off the counter. He reaches out to rest his hand against Buck’s chest and trails it down the line of his sternum slowly. He can feel the rapid beat of Buck’s heart and the hastened tempo of his breathing. “All it takes is a couple of _touchdowns_ —“ his fingers pause at the metal clasp of Buck’s belt, “—here.” 

He watches as Buck’s lips part, a breathy exhale leaving him before Eddie’s words finally register, he snorts out a laugh. “Someone’s got game.” 

Eddie grins back at him, index finger tucking into the waistband of Buck’s jeans. “What can I say, I like to rise to the occasion.” 

He doesn’t miss the way Buck’s eyes instantly flick down and then stay there, his throat bobbing as he swallows heavily. “Yeah, I can see that.” He coughs, voice croaky and deep. “Real star player you got there.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and uses the finger in bucks waistband to pull him closer, Buck comes to him without resistance. “You going to keep up the sports talk all night, man?” 

“That’s the goal, yeah,” Buck laughs, head ducking down with it. “We’re just two guys, being bro’s, talking sports and—“ 

Eddie kisses him—hard—and Buck opens under it, lips parting to let Eddie’s tongue delve inside. Buck tastes like the beer they were drinking, all warm and wet, and Eddie feels like an idiot for not doing this sooner. He pulls away slowly, nipping roughly at Buck’s bottom lip.

“And?” He asks, enjoying the dark ring of Buck’s eyes and the hungry look on his face. “You were saying? _We’re just two guys, being bro’s, talking about sports and_ …”

“Scoring,” Buck rasps, hand tangling in Eddie shirt and pulling him back in.

He kisses Eddie roughly, desperation clinging to every fiber. Eddie falls into it easily, succumbing to the burning heat of Buck’s body pressed against his and Buck’s tongue delving deep into his mouth. It’s all wet and warm, and Eddie can’t stop the hungry groan that tangles in the middle of his throat like a growl. They stumble back until Buck bumps into the countertop and even then they don’t stop moving, Eddie’s hands sliding around to Buck’s ass so he can grip him tightly and hoist him up. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Buck bites out against his mouth 

Eddie wants to laugh or make a joke about lifting and exercise, but Buck bites down on his bottom lip and pulls roughly and anything thought process he had leaves the fucking building. 

The angle of the kiss is different like this, Buck’s already taller than him, but now he has to lean into Eddie, arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck and holding him there so the kiss doesn’t break. Eddie drags his hands from Buck’s back, fingers digging into the thick lines of Buck’s thighs and pushes until they open just enough for Eddie to slip in between them. He pulls, bringing Buck flush against him and groans again when he feels the hard press of Buck’s dick just below his belly button. 

Eddie feels too hot. Buck’s a fire against him, wild and dangerous and Eddie wants nothing more than to let it consume him. He wants to pepper him with compliments and praise, and he will, later on, once they’ve had their stupid sports talk fun. For now, though, he drags his mouth away from Buck’s down to his chin and bites, lightly. He wants to see how easily Buck goes red from his mouth, how many little marks he can leave on his soft skin until Buck is shaking against him from need. 

A little whine leaves Buck’s mouth when Eddie bites the soft spot just beneath his jaw, his head tipping back to expose the tan expanse of his throat. Eddie drags his mouth down it, teeth scraping teasingly along the thick veins there until he reaches the collar of Buck’s sweater. He wants to pull it aside and continue, but he likes the way the sweater fits Buck and doesn’t want to stretch the material. 

Nipping playfully at the hint of collar bone peaking out, Eddie murmurs at him to take his sweater off. Buck leans back, head thumping against the cabinet behind him as he hurries to comply, sweater and undershirt getting tossed somewhere to the floor. He reaches out to touch, but Buck stops him before he does.

“You too,” Buck plucks at the edge of Eddie’s shirt, “off.” 

“Bossy,” Eddie says fondly. 

“Not bossy,” Buck murmurs, hands moving to help Eddie push his shirt over his head and toss it on the floor with his own. “Just really, _really,_ turned on.” 

Before the shirt even hits the floor, Eddie has his hands back on Buck, dragging them over firm muscles and tracing them along tattoos. He brushes the pads of his fingers against Buck’s nipples and pinches, lightly, at the little buds of them. 

Buck rocks against him, fingers twisting up into Eddie’s hair, hard. “Fuck.” 

There’s something brushing along Eddie’s stomach, the metal clanking of a belt being messed with as Buck tries to undo his jeans. He grunts in frustration, and Eddie can’t resist ducking in close to bite at his ear and murmur, “ fumbling, Buckley?” 

“Maybe. But, don’t worry, Diaz,” Buck says back, head turning so that his lips trail over Eddie’s chest. “I never drop the ball.” 

When he pulls back, Eddie can see the sly grin on his face. A hand grasps at his and drags it up Buck’s thigh to where Buck’s jeans are undone. Buck presses Eddie’s palm there and rocks up into it. “Come on, Eddie, I’m open.” 

He feels like he’s choking on air as he slides his hand into the opening and wraps his fingers around Buck’s cock. It’s hard and hot in his hand, the weight of it perfect. It’s neither thick nor thin, his fingers fitting around it just right as he strokes from the base up to the head. His thumb smearing a drop of precum across the tip leaving it sticky. 

Buck’s head drops to his shoulder, hot pants of air ghosting along Eddie’s skin and making him shiver. 

“Eddie, please,” Buck whimpers and arches up into him, trying to find friction in the hold of Eddie’s hand. 

This is something that Eddie hasn’t really let himself think about, but he knows he’s wanted it for a while now. He wants to take this nice and slow, make Buck beg a little more, learn the way he likes to be touched but he also wants to hear the way Buck moans when he comes, feel the shudders against his chest as he drives Buck right over the edge. 

“Eddie,” Buck groans again. 

Eddie moves his hand, going with what he likes himself, tight and fast, pausing to tease along the slit and just beneath the curve of the head with his thumbnail. The noises Buck makes are something addictive, breathy little curses and grunts he tries to smother against Eddie’s skin. It spurs Eddie on, makes his touches a little rougher and faster just so he can drag out more. 

“Come on, Buck, wanna see you cross the finish line,” Eddie says, dipping down to bite roughly at a single rosy nipple. 

Buck makes a startled little sound, something between a laugh and a moan and then he’s coming over Eddie’s hand, sticky and wet, body shaking with it. The hand in Eddie’s hair tightens painfully, the one at his hip digging into his skin, leaving little red crescents in their wake. Eddie doesn’t stop touching, his hand slowing into a gentle rhythm until Buck makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and grabs at Eddie’s arm, too sensitive for Eddie to keep it up. 

Eddie doesn’t even think before bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking at the cum between his fingers, cleaning it away as Buck watches with wide dark eyes, mouth parted in a little _O_ of surprise. 

“Fucking—” Buck grunts and then his mouth is on Eddie’s again, licking into it greedily, tasting himself on Eddie’s tongue. It’s the hottest thing Eddie’s ever encountered. He kisses back, mouth just as hungry for Buck. 

When they pull apart, Eddie wipes what’s left on his hand on the thigh of Buck’s jeans, staining the dark material. 

“Dude, gross.” Buck complains, nose wrinkling, but he doesn’t actually sound all that upset. His body curls into Eddie’s, soft and sastiated. 

“It’s yours.” Eddie laughs, leaning in and biting at his jaw playfully. “Deal with it, man.” 

Buck nudges at his chest, eyes-rolling. “It’s unsportsmanlike.” 

“Oh? Is it?” Eddie grins up at him, “Wanna show me how to be more of a team player then?” 

“Yeah,” Buck says, eyes lighting up with something close to mischief. He wraps a hand around Eddie’s neck to pull him into one last quick kiss, then lets it glide down to Eddie’s chest. Blunt nails scraping against his skin lightly. He pushes and Eddie moves back a step as Buck slips off the countertop. “How about I give you a blow-by-blow.” 

Breath halts in Eddie’s lungs as he watches Buck drop down to his knees, hands sliding down Eddie’s body as he goes. Buck undoes his belt and jeans with practiced ease, eyes staring up at Eddie the entire time. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers when one of Buck’s hands reaches in to pull his dick out of it’s tight confines. 

Buck strokes it slowly, fingers feather light and teasing. Eddie has to reach back, hands scrabbling at the edge of the countertop for something to hold on to. He fights to keep his eyes open as Buck’s touch goes a little rougher, he wants to watch every second of this. Buck gives him a sly smile, like he knows what Eddie’s thinking and then leans his head down, warm breath ghosting over the head of Eddie’s dick. A tongue, wet and hot, flicks along the slit once and then Eddie’s engulfed in that sinful mouth. 

Buck, Eddie realizes, is unfairly good at what he’s doing. Swallowing Eddie down like an old pro, groaning low in his throat so that the vibrations shake Eddie to the core and make him curse, loud and filthy. One hand moves on its own, reaching out and tangling itself in Buck’s hair, holding on way too tightly but Buck just moans louder around him at each tug. It’s dirty and quick and Eddie is way to close already. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, and Buck looks up at him, cheeks hollowed and eyes watery. He’s so fucking close, hand pulling harder at Buck’s hair, “I’m going to cum.”

Buck doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull away, just bobs his head a little faster and digs his fingers into Eddie’s thighs. It urges him on, Eddie’s hips rocking forward into that tight heat. 

He short-circuits as he cums, body bowing over and thighs shaking. Buck’s hands moving up to his hips and gripping him tightly are the only thing keeping him upright as he shakes his way through his climax. He pants heavily, chest heaving and heart racing. It’s been years since he’s felt this good. 

Buck pulls back, a sticky trail of cum and saliva connecting him to Eddie’s cock before it breaks. Buck swipes his tongue at it, cleaning it away and stares up at Eddie. Eddie stares back, throat bobbing as he tries to find words that aren’t just reiterations of _fuck,_ and _holy fuck_ , and _Jesus-fucking-Christ, Buck._

“That good?” Buck asks coyly, smirk playing at his mouth. His hands loosen on Eddie’s hips, lets him slowly slip to the floor, legs splayed on either side of Buck. 

Eddie sucks in a steadying breath, throat dry as he leans back against the cabinets. He nods, “Gold worthy.” 

Buck laughs, the sound of it filling up the kitchen. Eddie snorts out a quiet laugh and reaches out to pull Buck closer. He kisses Buck, smile pressing against smile as they catch their breath. Eddie’s sure they look a little ridiculous on his kitchen floor, half dressed, jeans tangled around their thighs—Buck’s even missing one of his shoes, but he can’t really find it in himself to care all that much as Buck leans against his chest like he belongs there. 

It’s oddly natural feeling, Eddie thinks as he noses at the side of Buck’s head. The way they fit together like this, the playful way they’d fallen together—kissed, touched, moaned. He wants this. Over and over, and he wants more—all of it. 

Fingers skate over the exposed skin of Eddie’s thigh and tap nervously at the little crescent marks Buck’s nails have left there. Eddie watches them for a long moment and feels a little tendril of worry build up. Does Buck feel the same way? He knows Buck doesn’t really do the whole one night stand thing anymore, but Eddie has a lot of baggage and a kid that will always come first. 

He clears his throat once, and then again when he finds himself unable to actually speak. He falls back on their earlier game of sports talk and tries to lighten his voice, but it still wavers. “So, uh, is this just a bump-and-run?” 

The pliant slouch of Buck’s body goes tense, his head tipping to the side so he can catch Eddie’s eyes. He looks nervous, searching as he takes in Eddie’s expression. “Is that what you want?”

Eddie thinks about Christopher, about how easily Buck fits into their life, how much they both love him. “No.” 

“Good,” Buck says quietly, mouth meeting Eddie’s, words and lips brushing ever so gently against him. “'cause I was always playing for keeps.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I have never played or watched a sport in my life. 
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://lovelylittlegrim.tumblr.com)


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